Blind Faith
by Idan
Summary: This is for the fic exchange arranged by the amazing Half Agony and Hope. The prompt was "What if it was Lisbon hurt in Bloodshot and blind instead of Jane?"


**Disclaimer** : I own neither The Mentalist nor its characters, and I'm making no profit from this. There's oodles of dialogue taken from episode 1x16, Bloodshot, that I have no claim to either.

 **Author's Note** : It's a treat to revisit the early episodes and play "what if." I hope you enjoying reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

"Jane, come on! I mean it, come on!" Lisbon's desperation translated itself into action, and with one last tug, she managed to pull Jane away from the van and push him ahead of her, spurring him to run.

She had nearly caught up to him and was just glancing over her shoulder when the bomb went off, the shock wave throwing her off her feet. She tumbled over the hood of a car before hitting the pavement, losing sight of Jane as her world went black.

"Lisbon!" Jane shouted, sounding far away to her ringing ears. "Lisbon!"

She could hear a note of desperation in his voice as she rolled to her hands and knees, blinking to try to clear her vision. Was he hurt? She needed to help him. "Jane?"

Hands gripped her shoulders, helping her stand. "Lisbon, are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," she replied, aware she was shouting so she could hear herself.

He didn't let go of her. "Lisbon. Look at me."

"I've got something in my eyes." She blinked, trying to focus, but her vision stubbornly refused to clear. "I can't see," she admitted finally.

Jane's hand came to her cheek, tilting her face up. She was suddenly aware of his breath puffing against her forehead, ruffling her hair. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he demanded, his hands moving around her head, feeling for injuries.

"My shoulder, a little," she admitted, hating how her voice shook. It was adrenaline, she assured herself. She'd be fine in a minute, and her vision would clear. "But I'm fine."

"Cho!" Jane shouted, making her jump a little. "Over here!"

Lisbon straightened, but Jane left his hand on her shoulder as if afraid she might wander off. She was both annoyed by and grateful for the point of reference, especially when Cho spoke from behind her unexpectedly.

"You guys okay?"

"Lisbon needs an ambulance," Jane said.

"No, I don't," she protested, stepping back and shrugging off his hand.

"She's blind," Jane continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Boss?" Cho asked.

"I can't see right now," she admitted, realizing that Cho might think Jane was pulling his leg. "But I don't need an ambulance. Just a ride to the hospital."

"I'll take her," Jane volunteered.

Cho said, "I need you to tell me what happened."

"Later," Jane insisted.

"No, now," Lisbon said. "Get the investigation started. Van Pelt can drive me."

"Drive you where?" Minelli demanded, startling her.

Jane put a hand on her shoulder again. "Lisbon's hurt. She can't see. She needs to go to the hospital." He paused, and she wondered if he was reading Minelli. "I hit the ground pretty hard; I should get checked out anyway. You don't need me to identify the body."

"Body?" Cho and Minelli chorused.

"There was a man tied up in the van, along with the bomb," Jane said, his voice betraying impatience.

Lisbon added, "He had something written on his forehead. I think it said 'you're next.'"

Minelli groaned. "I'll have a uniform drive you two. Somebody needs to keep an eye on Jane."

There was a pause as they all absorbed the unintended irony of his statement. Then Cho forged ahead, all business. "I'll find you at the hospital when we have something, Boss."

She wondered if he shot Jane a warning glance as he left, calling to Rigsby.

"This way," Minelli said gruffly.

Jane moved his hand to the small of her back, applying gentle pressure to indicate she should take a step. Walking blind was unnerving, but as Jane guided her around obstacles she gained confidence that he wouldn't amuse himself by letting her walk into a pole or anything.

At last they stopped, and she heard Minelli giving instructions to someone, presumably the driver. Jane opened a car door and guided her to sit, shielding her head in a manner that reminded her unpleasantly of the way she put cuffed suspects into cars. Then he closed the door, leaving her suddenly alone in her own personal darkness.

She was relieved when the other back door opened, but Jane didn't join her immediately. She swallowed, trying to clear her ears, as Minelli said something in a low voice. Jane replied, "No, I'll stay with her. I'll call when we know something."

Then he slid in beside her, sounding cheerful as he said, "I always suspected I'd end up in the back seat of a police car. But I never thought it'd be with you."

"Shut up, Jane," she grumbled.

"No need to be grumpy," he said, patting her hand. "I won't leave you at the mercy of the frauds in white coats. I have orders from Minelli to render any and all assistance needed."

"And what if you need assistance?" she asked. If this was all some plot aimed at Jane, how could she protect him?

"Officer Reynolds will be keeping an eye out," Jane replied. "Isn't that right, Dave?"

"Right," came the response.

Lisbon relaxed a little. She only knew Dave Reynolds a little, but he always seemed polite to Jane, so she guessed Jane hadn't offended him. Yet.

The ride was unpleasantly disorienting, but Jane insisted on chatting the entire way, pestering her for a response if she tried to ignore him. Like she cared if Van Pelt was dating the coffee cart guy. She was more worried about who was going to get the unit's work done for the audit—and protect Jane.

She gave her responses grudgingly, wondering why he didn't get the hint that she didn't feel like indulging his need for conversation. He was usually better at reading her moods.

It wasn't until they arrived and he got out of the car that she realized he was probably freaked out, wondering how he could continue on the Red John case if she wasn't the lead agent anymore. She would have to assure him that Cho would tolerate his antics as long as he kept closing cases.

Or, better yet, get her vision back so nothing had to change.

She was grateful for Jane's guidance into the emergency room, until he accosted the person at the admitting desk. "This is Agent Teresa Lisbon of the California Bureau of Investigation. She's been hurt while on duty and needs to see a doctor right now."

"Here. Fill these out," came the bored reply, accompanied by the sound of a clipboard being slid across the counter.

"Obviously you don't understand the urgency of the situation," Jane persisted.

"She's walking under her own power and not bleeding," was the response. "Fill out the paperwork and we'll see her as soon as possible."

Lisbon tugged at his sleeve. "For once, you'll have to do the paperwork. Come on, let's sit. And you better not make up embarrassing medical questions that aren't on that form!"

The idea diverted him, as she'd hoped, but he overcame the temptation. That was possibly because he got to rifle through her wallet looking for her health insurance card, but she'd take it.

After he turned in the paperwork, he returned to the seat beside her and said, "It'll just be a minute."

"Did you hypnotize her?" she half-joked.

"No need. They aren't that busy."

It irritated her that she had no idea if he was lying. But then, she rarely did.

Jane continued, "There's an older couple; he fell and she's making him get checked out. A couple of teenage siblings waiting for another sibling and their mom, straight from soccer practice. And a disheveled gentleman who looks a little confused. Nobody's bleeding or crying."

She appreciated the details of her surroundings. Used to automatically scanning her environment for potential threats, she felt vulnerable without her vision. But Jane was pretty good as a threat scanner too.

"Use your ears," Jane advised. "And you might be able to smell the grass on the soccer cleats if you try hard enough."

She concentrated, listening to the sounds around them: low murmurs of conversation, the sound of someone pressing phone keys, and a phlegmy cough. She thought she could tell how big the room was from the way the sound filled it. And she could hear the squeak of rubber soled shoes on the hard floor as someone approached, so she didn't jump when a voice said, "Teresa Lisbon?"

She stood up as Jane did, feeling his hand immediately on her back to guide her.

"Just Ms. Lisbon," the woman said.

"CBI." Jane must have pulled out his ID. "She was hurt on duty. I go with her."

Lisbon didn't protest, glad to have his sharp eyes while hers weren't working. He also did all the talking, which was a relief since her head and shoulder had started hurting in earnest now that her adrenaline was wearing off.

The doctor was a woman with a matter of fact manner, which gave Lisbon hope that Jane wouldn't feel the need to belittle her. She examined Lisbon's eyes and explained the tests she wanted to run, then said, "You should put on a gown. I'll send the nurse to help."

"I don't need help," she replied. "Jane, you wait outside."

"I'll be just on the other side of the curtain," he assured her. She heard the curtain move and two sets of footsteps, but she still moved around the bed waving a hand in front of her to check they were gone.

"I'm really on the other side of the curtain, Lisbon," Jane called, sounding amused. "The gown's on the foot of the bed."

She hurried to change as fast as she could. Being on her own was unnerving.

The tests were made less daunting by Jane's cheerful patter, which included descriptions of the devices, stories about the people around them, and his critiques of the hospital's decor. He even made friends with the orderly in charge of wheeling her around, despite her protests that she could walk. And there was a very silly digression into what sort of hairstyle would go best with the gauze padding they put over her eyes, at which she actually smiled.

When they were left alone in her hospital room, he quieted for a minute. "I'll get you some flowers, to brighten up the place."

"It doesn't make any difference to me," she pointed out.

"Lisbon, Lisbon, you need to work on that positive outlook. You'll want something nice to look at when you can see again." She felt him perch on the side of the bed. "And you will."

"Good to know, Doctor Jane," she replied.

"Hm. You'll need to develop some kind of substitute for rolling your eyes in the interim. A hand signal, maybe."

She was tempted to give him her middle finger, but it wouldn't be any fun to shock him when she couldn't see it. He chuckled as she thought it, either guessing what she was thinking or wanting her to believe he had.

"Ah, Doctor," Jane said, alerting Lisbon they were no longer alone. "Bearing good news, I hope."

"Agent Lisbon, you're a lucky woman. This could have been much worse," the doctor said.

Lisbon asked, "Why can't I see?"

"There's a moderate concussion with some short-term memory loss, disorientation, headache, and of course, fleeting blindness," the doctor replied. "It's most likely due to small floating blood clots in the vessels around the eye, demonstrating a CVI, or cortico-visual impairment."

Lisbon didn't care about the medical speak; she wanted to know when she could go back to work. "How long will it last?"

"It's hard to say, really. The body's healing powers are unpredictable."

Lisbon pictured Jane rolling his eyes.

"But 48 to 72 hours is the norm. We must wait and see, so to speak."

Jane said, "Ah, humor. Everybody loves a witty doctor in times of trouble."

"This is temporary, Agent Lisbon. Your sight will return, but it's going to take time and patience," the doctor said, ignoring him.

"Patience is not her strong suit," Jane remarked. Lisbon aimed a smack at where she thought he was standing, but she only caught the edge of his sleeve.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll check in later," the doctor said, and then she was gone.

"Stop mouthing off to people who are trying to help me," Lisbon ordered.

"Hey, Boss," Cho greeted her as he came in. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, but Jane is trying to get somebody to forcibly sedate him."

She thought she heard Cho give a little huff of amusement. "What'd you find out?" she asked him.

"The victim is James Medina, 44, stock broker out of Highlands. The van wasn't his; it was reported stolen yesterday. We're digging up everything we can on Medina. Is it possible he was on some bizarre suicide mission?"

"No," Jane said. "I looked in his eyes. That was very much a man who didn't want to be where he was. Whoever did this wanted me to watch Janes Medina die in terror." He paused. "'Ur next' was written on the man's forehead."

"Why?" Lisbon asked.

"I don't know. Yet." Jane sounded confident, which always raised a red flag for her. Then he patted her hand. "You're going to be fine, Lisbon. We'll find out who did this."

"Cho," she said, "you're lead on this case. Keep an eye on Jane; don't let him run off on his own. If this was really aimed at him, it's not over."

"Don't worry, Boss," Cho replied. "I got it. Jane, you coming?"

"There's a guard on the door, right?" Jane asked.

"Don't worry about me," Lisbon said. "Go catch who did this."

Jane said, "We'll gift wrap him for you. And I'll be back to smuggle you some decent food for dinner."

"And coffee," she called after them, but there was no reply, so she wasn't sure he heard.

She heaved a sigh. She couldn't check her email or do anything useful, and her team needed to be on the case, not babysitting her.

It was going to be a long day.

mmm

Lisbon was dozing when suddenly a touch to her shoulder brought her upright in alarm.

"It's me," Jane said quickly. "Sorry to startle you."

"What time is it?" She was annoyed that she had no way to know.

"Getting on toward dinner. Ready for me to spring you from this joint?"

She really was, but she wasn't going to do anything to delay her recovery. "My doctor hasn't released me yet. How's the case going?"

"Cho and Rigsby went to pick up a Terence Carter Andrews at a club. Apparently before he was their guest relations manager, he used to work with our victim in the junior trader program at Lynch-Halstead. It ended badly. Oh, and he worked as a security guard for the statehouse. I thought you might want to join us for the interrogation."

"I'd love to," she admitted. "But even if my doctor released me, Minelli wouldn't let me in the building."

She could hear the smug grin he must be wearing. "Ah, but I've taken care of everything. I persuaded your doctor you'd get more rest at home, because really, hospitals are the worst places to rest. All those people in and out of your room wanting your bodily fluids at all hours—if you're not sleep deprived when you go in, you certainly are when you escape. So she is releasing you on condition that I drive you home, make sure you can find your way around, and force you to rest."

"But instead you're taking me to an interrogation?" Really, why was she surprised anymore? He lied as easily as he breathed, and almost as often.

"Come now, Lisbon. We both know perfectly well that you consider the CBI your real home. And your couch will be more comfortable than being alone in your apartment wondering what all those weird noises are."

He had a point, she had to admit. "And Minelli?"

"Is more than a little terrified that Cho can't keep me in line. When I suggested looking after you would keep me out of trouble while I solve the case, he thought it was a brilliant idea. Anyway, what are you going to do here, just sit there and listen to television? Besides, I'm sure the food is terrible."

She couldn't help wondering if Jane had something on their boss, sometimes. But since this crazy plan would get her out of here and back to being somewhat useful, she wasn't going to argue. "Okay, fine. But we stop somewhere on the way to get a cheeseburger."

"I won't even tell you what is probably in it," he promised magnanimously. "Your clothes are on the chair, three feet to your right. I'll be in the hall if you need me."

She was tempted to tell him she'd had plenty of practice dressing in the dark, but he'd probably make way too much out of it. "No peeking!"

"Lisbon, you wound me." He tried to sound hurt, but he was smirking too much for his mouth to cooperate. She could visualize it all too clearly.

"Not yet," she threatened as she heard the door close.

It muffled his voice as he called, "I'm right out here with your guard, so you have someone you can order to shoot me if need be."

"Don't tempt me!" she retorted.

mmm

"Boss!" Van Pelt's tone was a mix of excitement, relief, and concern.

"I'm fine," Lisbon assured her. "Just figured you might want some help keeping Jane out of trouble."

There was a pause, during which she was sure Van Pelt was looking suspiciously at Jane. "Uh, sure. Okay. I have some questions about the audit, so it's great you're here."

Jane said, "The case, Van Pelt."

"Oh. Andrews assaulted Rigsby, so they're letting him stew until morning. Everything's under control. Can I get you anything, Boss?"

"Some real coffee would be great."

"Coming right up!" Van Pelt said, a little too cheerfully.

Jane said, "No audit. You're supposed to be taking it easy. Come on, I'll lead you to your office. You can sit and drink your coffee and then take a nap. I'll brew some tea and keep you company." He chuckled. "Ah, Van Pelt's new love interest just called. Never fear, I'll rescue your coffee from her distraction."

"Go on. I can find my way." She was carrying the stupid cane around; she might as well use it.

"That's the spirit!" Jane called after her as she took slow steps in what she hoped was the right direction. "See? Your other senses are much more heightened. Like Daredevil."

As soon as he came back, she was going to trip him with her cane.

mmm

Lisbon was surprised how easily she fell asleep, and it seemed no time at all before Van Pelt arrived to take her down to the gym showers to get cleaned up and change into the clothes in her go bag. She'd have to go home soon, she thought, but hopefully her sight would come back today.

"Where's Jane?" she asked as they entered the bullpen, which was distinctly lacking the scent of freshly brewed tea.

"I'm not sure. Interrogation, maybe? Do you want me to go look?"

"No, you keep working the case or, failing that, the audit. I can find my way." She sounded more confident than she felt.

Partway down the hall, she heard Jane say, "You can let him go."

Dammit, she fumed. Feeling the wall with her hand, she soon reached the door and yanked it open. "Jane, a word please?"

"Certainly." A moment later she felt a hand on her elbow. "I'm done here. Rigsby has it under control."

She let the door swing shut. "How many times do I have to tell you, you don't get to decide who gets let go. He assaulted Rigsby."

"Meh. A man with his background was bound to resist arrest. He didn't kill Medina. He wouldn't have used such an impersonal method, nor sent me a text. Medina's murder involves me somehow, and Andrews and I have never crossed paths." He steered her back toward the bullpen, and she let him, until she could tell they were near her office. "Although he's filled with anger, it's not fearful, guilty, murderous anger. It's a more clean, righteous anger. Lemony. If you'd joined us, you would surely have been able to tell the difference, what with your heightened senses."

"Lemony," Lisbon grumbled. She wasn't feeling that her senses were heightened, despite Jane's cheerful assertions. She just felt blind and a little bit vulnerable. "Right. So I should be able to just, what, sniff out criminals now, like a bloodhound?"

"Now, Lisbon, no need to be grumpy. This will pass."

"You don't know that." Really, was a little sympathy and consideration too much to ask?

"No, I don't, but your doctor seems to believe it, and you seem to trust her, so why not take the optimist's view? Time enough to feel sorry for yourself later if she's wrong."

"You're lucky I can't smell where you're standing, or I'd kick you," she muttered. She heard a soft snort in reply. "And stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not," he protested.

"Right."

"No. Really." He grabbed her hand, making her stifle a gasp of surprise. Then surprise turned into shock as he uncurled her fingers and laid them on his lips. "See? I'm serious as can be."

Lisbon swallowed hard. His lips were soft and warm, and his breath puffing between her fingers tickled a little. As he spoke, his lips moved against her fingertips almost like a kiss, and she shivered. How long had it been since she had felt so close to someone?

She should snatch her hand away from his mouth, but somehow it was still there.

"So," Rigsby said, entirely too close and sounding like he'd walked in on something, "what's the deal, Boss?"

Lisbon regained control of her hand and wrenched it back down to her side, switching back into cop mode. "Have forensics check him for any explosives residue. If he comes up clean, let him go."

"Will do," Rigsby said.

Jane said, "I'm still convinced there's a connection between Medina and me. Come on, let's go visit with the widow."

"Me? Why?"

This time, she knew he was smiling. "Because you're the perfect distraction."

mmm

"Your coffee is right in front of you, Agent Lisbon," Mrs. Medina said gently. It smelled amazing.

"Thank you." Lisbon wasn't sure why she'd agreed to this, but as she lifted the mug to her lips, she was glad she had. The house was under surveillance in case the killer decided to come after the widow, so she and Jane hadn't needed anyone to tag along to protect them. It felt almost normal, just the two of them, her waiting for Jane to do something outrageous. Except he seemed to be sympathetic to Mrs. Medina, speaking to her gently.

"Mrs. Medina, I'm very sorry for your loss. We won't keep you from your family for long. Do you mind if I look around at some of your husband's things?" he asked.

"Of course. But why?"

"I think whoever did this was targeting your husband, and me also. I don't know why. I don't believe we've ever met."

"I don't think so," she replied.

"Would it be a terrible inconvenience for me to look at the rooms where he spent the most time? Bedroom, a study, places like that?"

"I guess. Why?"

"Just to get a feel for him, look for any possible connection we may have."

"Okay."

Jane put a hand on Lisbon's shoulder. "It won't take long. Mrs. Medina will look after you; I'm sure I can find my own way."

Then he was gone, hopefully not off to wreak his usual havoc. Lisbon cast about for something to say to the widow. "You have two children, right?" Mothers could be relied on to talk about their children as long as you needed, she thought.

Jane returned before the topic of the Medina daughters was fully exhausted. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Medina," he said. "Ready, Lisbon?"

"Sure. Thank you, Mrs. Medina," Lisbon said as she stood.

In the car, she noticed Jane was unusually quiet. "What did you find?"

"A watch. I've seen one like it before, back in my psychic days. One of my old clients must have been connected to Lynch-Halstead. The team can help me run down the connection."

"You don't remember who it was?" Lisbon asked.

"No. I'll have Grace help me look through my records, if you'll release her from audit purgatory."

"Fine. Just let me know what you find. Minelli found an intern to read paperwork to me so I can do my share of the audit work," she sighed.

"Nice of him."

"I think he hoped I'd rather go home to rest."

"He surely knows you better than that," Jane chuckled.

mmm

Back at the CBI, Jane briefed the team on his latest theory, and he and Van Pelt dug in while Lisbon and the intern, Matt, got to work in her office. An hour in, Jane, obviously bored, wandered into her office with a fresh cup of coffee as his excuse.

"Take five, Matt," Lisbon said, hoping she didn't sound too relieved.

"Thanks!" Matt definitely sounded relieved as he hurried out the door.

"Any progress?" Lisbon asked Jane, holding her hands out for the wonderful smelling coffee.

"It turns out Van Pelt's new boyfriend is a lawyer. I hope her taste will improve as she matures."

"I hope you're working instead of just gossiping."

"Meh. Clearing the air will make Rigsby less distracted, and Van Pelt resented being asked about her personal life, so she'll work harder than ever to prove she's a professional."

"But no new leads on the case?"

"Just dead ends." There was a gloomy note in his voice, hinting at a story he probably wouldn't tell her. "Van Pelt's still looking."

Someone opened the door without knocking; Lisbon thought she must be getting used to it, because she didn't jump.

"Good evening, Virgil," Jane said.

"Sir," she added.

"Lisbon, I hear you spent the night in the office last night," he said. "You're supposed to be resting. I don't mind you here keeping Jane from terrorizing the place during the day, but I expect you to sleep at home. If you need help—"

Jane said, "No need to worry. Van Pelt will take her home and provide any assistance needed."

"Good." Minelli took Jane's story at face value, which seemed like a bad idea to Lisbon. But if she tried to ditch Van Pelt, Jane would probably wrangle his way into her place and refuse to leave.

Still, one thing needed to be said. "You should be more worried about Jane than me. Nobody's trying to kill me."

"No need to worry about me," Jane said. "I'll be pulling an all-nighter with Cho and Rigsby. My safety is assured, unless Rigsby insists on eating like a seal and Cho has a psychotic break."

Minelli made a sound somewhere between clearing his throat and chuckling. "Well, see that you don't wander off. See you both in the morning."

"Goodnight," Lisbon replied. She waited until she heard the door close behind Minelli, then said to Jane, "When did you get so sensible?"

"I have quite a well-developed sense of self preservation, Lisbon. Besides, this killer has so far managed to hurt not me, but you. With such a risk of collateral damage, I can hardly visit any of my favorite haunts, except the one occupied by heavily armed, slightly paranoid officers of the law."

"Yay for us," she said dryly. Her next remark was cut off as she was startled by her door opening with force.

"Boss! We've got something," Van Pelt announced. "We cross-checked spouses' names and came up with a second hit. Jane used to have a client named Jill Lamont. Her husband was Paul Kraeger, and he used to work for Lynch-Halstead."

Jane repeated the name thoughtfully. "Yes. Yes, I remember her now. That's where I saw the watch. She thought he was cheating on her."

Van Pelt said, "They ended up divorced."

"Good work, Van Pelt," Lisbon said. "First thing tomorrow, Cho and Rigsby can go talk to someone at Lynch-Halstead about Paul Kraeger, see what they know. Meanwhile see if you can track him down."

"Right. Just let me know when you're ready to go home," Van Pelt replied, sounding way too cheerful. "Or if you'd rather, I have a little guest room. You're welcome to stay with me."

"I'll let you know," Lisbon replied, hoping she sounded happier than she felt.

After the door closed behind Van Pelt, Jane said, "Tough call, hm? Let Van Pelt see all your dirty laundry and guilty pleasure food, or find your way around a totally unfamiliar environment."

Lisbon sighed. "I don't suppose you'd hypnotize Minelli not to care if I slept here again?"

"No. You need real rest. My advice is to accept Van Pelt's hospitality. You'll be a much more gracious guest than hostess."

"Stop laughing at me."

"I'm not," he protested. "In your shoes I'd probably be just as grumpy."

"In my shoes you'd just sleep on your stupid couch. Minelli wouldn't dare try to make you leave."

"True. But cheer up, Lisbon. If I were blinded, you would be terribly annoyed by my refusal to be a good patient and torn between keeping an eye on me and solving the case. Since you're not responsible for either right now, you can go get a good night's sleep." He paused. "And I'll bring you a bear claw from Marie's to make up for whatever health food breakfast you're forced to endure."

"And coffee. A big one, extra sweet."

"Of course." Now he was definitely laughing at her. "I'll tell Van Pelt you're ready and shoo Matt from the building."

She heard him stand and head to the door. But he didn't open it right away. After a moment, he said in a quiet, serious voice, "It's going to be all right, Lisbon. Not much longer."

"Stop patronizing me," she retorted, to hide how comforting she found his certainty, even though she knew he was bluffing. "Contrary to what you believe, you don't know everything."

He hummed in agreement. "No. But I do know you." He opened the door. "Good night, Lisbon."

"Good night, Jane. Stay with Cho, okay? Promise."

"Promise," he replied as he left.

She sighed into the quiet darkness around her. Hopefully tomorrow this would all be over—both her blindness and the threat against Jane.

mmm

The morning began with disappointment, as Van Pelt insisted on changing the bandages over Lisbon's eyes, giving her the opportunity to test whether her vision had returned. It hadn't.

The silver lining was that Van Pelt attributed Lisbon's bad mood to that, not to irritation at being forced to have conversation over fruit and yogurt and some godawful flavored coffee. Lisbon reflected that if Jane didn't bring her the treats he'd promised, he'd soon regret it.

But as soon as Van Pelt opened the door to Lisbon's office, the welcome scent of coffee told her he had come through. But he wasn't waiting to be thanked for it, which was mildly alarming. "Where are the guys?"

"I guess they all went to Lynch-Halstead. I can text Rigsby and ask."

"Thanks." Lisbon found her way to her chair and prepared to enjoy her real breakfast, finding the coffee and taking a sip. She immediately felt better—right up until she heard Van Pelt's cheerful, "Hi, Matt! She's all set, just waiting for you."

mmm

Lisbon's stomach was starting to growl, having long since finished digesting the bear claw, when her door opened and Jane's voice said, "Lunch break!"

"Hi, Mr. Jane," Matt said, sounding as relieved as Lisbon felt. "See you in an hour, Agent Lisbon."

"Thanks, Matt."

Jane said, "I come bearing the cure for all paperwork ills: your favorite meatball sub. With chips and a Diet Coke."

Lisbon inhaled deeply as he set the food in front of her. "Thank you. Any luck on the case?"

"Paul Kraeger was fired after his divorce. His whole life fell apart. Cho and Rigsby are out searching soup kitchens." Jane settled into a chair across her desk and began unwrapping a sandwich. She must be getting used to being blind, she thought—she could picture him so clearly.

"And you didn't think that was a good use of your time?" she guessed, unwrapping her sub.

"Not compared to providing food for our fearless leader." He paused, probably chewing. "Go ahead, say it—I can see you thinking it. I ruined his life."

"No, you didn't. You simply confirmed what she knew in her heart already." One thing Jane didn't need was more guilt about his past. "Has anyone tried contacting Jill Lamont?"

"Rigsby left a message. Nothing is being left undone, Lisbon. You trained your team well." Jane paused to eat for a few seconds, then asked, "How's the audit going?"

"Okay, I guess. It's amazing the headway I can make without distractions."

"I would offer my services, but this is one area where my skills are less than useful."

"You can help by staying out of trouble and not generating paperwork that Cho and I will have to deal with."

"Excellent. That dovetails nicely with my plan for a nap."

Lisbon reflected that while his napping usually irritated her, under the circumstances it was probably the best thing he could do. "Good. Don't go anywhere without telling me."

"I plan to be peacefully sleeping." After another minute, he added, "But just to be clear, does 'anywhere' extend to the men's room?"

She nearly choked. "No."

"Good. Because that would lend a whole new meaning to the term 'micromanaging.'"

Lisbon stifled a snort. "I'd settle for managing you at all, most days."

"That's the spirit," he said cheerfully. "I admit, I'm anxious for your sight to return. Having to be on my best behavior is wearying."

She wondered briefly if she might be able to fake blindness as a management strategy. Minelli might even approve, since it seemed effective. But no, Jane would figure it out and no doubt devise some cunning scheme to expose/get back at her. "Your cause and effect is skewed. You should be on your best behavior because someone out there is trying to harm you, not because you feel sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you, Lisbon." He sounded sincere, but of course with Jane, that meant nothing. Not being able to see his body language was a severe disadvantage. "You're dealing with your disability admirably. But you were hurt in a plot aimed at me. That, I cannot allow to pass. My goal is to catch this killer as quickly and completely as possible, leaving no doubt that he will be punished appropriately. That means abandoning my usual methods for what you call sound police work."

"The DA's office will be glad to hear it."

"Tell them not to get used to it."

"They'll think Christmas came early," she said dryly.

"Ah, but this gift isn't for them, Lisbon. It's all yours."

"Just what I always wanted."

"Your sarcasm aside, I would have guessed it was. Is there something else? Hm. Something to ponder. You have a birthday coming up, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, so you do know when it is?" Jane forgetting everyone's birthdays was practically a team tradition by now.

"Of course. Just because I prefer to wrap my gifts in the element of surprise rather than give them at preordained times doesn't mean I don't know those times."

"Uh huh."

She heard paper crinkling. "Eat up, Lisbon. You'll be more cheerful with a full stomach. And if you finish your meal like a good girl, I'll tell you a story."

She threw a potato chip in his general direction. "I'm not five."

She heard crunching. "You have very good aim for a blind woman. But then I suppose you've had plenty of practice throwing things at me by now."

The chair squeaked a little as he got up, and she felt a moment's alarm until she heard him settle on her couch. "Did I ever tell you about the first cop I ever met? No? Well, I was six years old, or thereabouts, in this little town west of Des Moines..."

Lisbon leaned back in her chair with her bag of chips, content to listen. How did he know she didn't want to be left alone right now? She couldn't wait for her vision to return, but meanwhile voices were the light in her darkness, and Jane's familiar storytelling made things seem almost normal. She would enjoy it while it lasted.

mmm

The afternoon wore on into evening. Van Pelt came in to help wrap up the audit, making things go faster, and Jane napped on Lisbon's couch, occasionally interjecting a sleepy complaint about the paperwork in his immediate vicinity. Matt left at 5, but Lisbon and Van Pelt kept working, hoping to hear from Cho and Rigsby. Lisbon was determined not to leave Jane alone, even at CBI, until the case was closed.

"Dinner, ladies?" Jane suggested suddenly.

"Order in," Lisbon said. "I don't want you out wandering around on your own."

Jane sighed. "I'm thinking Thai."

"Sure," Lisbon said, as Van Pelt said, "Sounds good."

"The menu's in the kitchen," Jane said, and Lisbon heard his feet hit the floor. "I'll make some tea while I'm at it. Coffee?"

"Yes," Lisbon said.

Van Pelt got up too. "I'll help carry."

After they left, Lisbon stood and stretched. At least she was getting some work done—or at least providing the guidance necessary for Van Pelt to get some work done. They might even wrap up tonight.

It felt good to stand after sitting for so long, and she took a few steps, careful to avoid the corner of her desk. Then she kept walking, hands outstretched, measuring the size of her office and comparing the steps to the image in her head. After that, she settled on her couch, which still smelled like Jane.

What was taking them so long?

She waited what felt like two minutes but was probably only one, then went back to her desk to pick up her cane. She was probably being silly, but she had a bad feeling about Jane's absence.

Just as she reached her door, she heard footsteps, then voices—Van Pelt saying something indistinguishable, then a strange man's voice.

Just then, Lisbon's cell rang. She fumbled in her pocket and answered it. "Lisbon."

"Boss, we found Paul Kraeger," Cho said. "He was obsessed with Jane and Medina. Remember his son? Kraeger told us he's living in the city now. Goes by the name Dan Hollenbeck."

"Great. I'll have Van Pelt track him down. Good work."

"Thanks. We're heading back now."

"Good. We'll try to have a lead by the time you get here." Lisbon hung up, the pushed the door open. "Van Pelt?"

"Oh hey, Boss." Van Pelt sounded weird.

"Introduce me to your friend, Grace," the stranger prompted.

"Uh, sure. This is Agent Teresa Lisbon. Boss, this is my, uh, friend, Dan Hollenbeck."

Lisbon stiffened in shock.

"Nice to meet you," Hollenbeck said. "Excuse my asking, but...are you blind?"

Lisbon opened her mouth to reply, still stunned, but all the sudden Jane was beside her, almost crowding her as his hand landed on her back. "Yes. Temporarily. Some maniac set off a bomb in our parking lot."

He sounded combative—could he have figured out the situation? "Van Pelt, is Ron around? Or Karl?"

"No, they left for the night. There's nobody here but us."

"Okay. Jane, can I speak to you privately?" Lisbon hoped her desperation wasn't obvious to Hollenbeck.

"Of course." Jane all but pushed Lisbon back toward her office.

Lisbon heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being drawn. "Sorry about this," Hollenbeck said. Lisbon wasn't sure who he was talking to, but it was Van Pelt who responded.

"I don't understand." Van Pelt's tension and confusion came through loud and clear, but Lisbon could tell she was thinking like a cop, weighing her chances.

"He's the bomber," Jane said. "He killed James Medina, and now he's come to kill me."

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you, Grace. Truly. But I needed you."

"Why?"

Jane chimed in. "To access the statehouse lot. He used your security pass."

Van Pelt snarled, "You son of a bitch."

"Just be cool, Van Pelt," Jane advised.

"Grace, relax. I have no desire to hurt you," Hollenbeck said.

"Give it up, Dan. Please?"

"I'm in too deep. I can't stop now. Don't make me hurt you."

"Just do as he says," Jane instructed, stepping in front of Lisbon.

"Oh, you're a nice guy now, aren't you?" Hollenbeck mocked. "You destroyed my life. For what? Because my dad cheated on my mom? Big deal. He wasn't perfect. And for that, he's on the street. He loses everything. One day I'm at the best—the best—private school in Los Angeles. I'm playing soccer with movie stars' kids. Next minute, I'm in Dogpatch, New Jersey with my weeping mom getting my ass whipped by thugs that don't even speak frickin' English. Why? Because you—you had to be the man who knows. You had to tell my mom the truth."

"I'm sorry, Dan," Jane murmured.

"Yeah, sure you are, with a gun at your head."

Lisbon sucked in a breath, feeling her adrenaline kick in.

"Let's step into that office," Hollenbeck said. "No funny moves, or I shoot Agent Lisbon."

"No funny moves," Jane said. "Right, Van Pelt?"

"Right," she said through what sounded like clenched teeth.

Hollenbeck herded them into the office, then went to Lisbon's desk, pulling out her gun and probably pocketing it. Then he must have found the handcuffs, because she heard a jangling noise. "Put these on Jane. No, behind his back—d'you think I'm stupid?"

Lisbon bit her lip as Jane was jostled away from her. She heard Van Pelt whisper, "Sorry."

"Oh good, there's a spare set. I won't have to knock you out, Grace. Here. Cuff yourself to the door."

Lisbon heard Van Pelt obey, saying. "Dan, there are agents and guards all over. You can't hope to get out of here."

"Oh yeah? That's why I'm taking Agent Lisbon with us. I bet they'll do what she tells them."

"Dan," Jane said, "there's no need for that. I'll go quietly; just leave Lisbon here. Haven't you hurt her enough?"

"I'm sorry about that. I truly am. But this is your fault, Mr. Jane. You ruined my life, so now I'm going to ruin yours."

"You're too late," Jane said. "A man called Red John already did that. Killing me will be a mercy. I'll be grateful. Is that what you want?"

"Well, then, maybe I'll kill Agent Lisbon instead. Maybe that'll be a mercy. At least she won't have to put up with you anymore. Now come on. Move."

Lisbon reached out, finding Jane's arm. She held onto it with both hands as they went toward the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Sorry, Grace, I need to gag you. But I bet Jane here has a nice clean handkerchief in that fancy suit of his."

"Top left pocket," Jane replied.

"You two hold still."

Lisbon tensed, waiting for some sign from Jane. But Hollenbeck must have kept the gun on them while tying the gag, because Jane was still as a statue.

"Okay. Now move. No funny business, or I'll shoot Agent Lisbon in the head."

"I hear you," Jane replied, leading Lisbon into the hallway and toward the elevators. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and private. You won't like it."

Jane must have a plan, Lisbon thought. It would probably be insane, but it might work.

Hollenbeck asked, "Where's your car, Jane?"

"Front lot. But it might be a little distinctive for your purposes. Lisbon's car would work better, in the side lot. I have her keys."

Good call, she thought. There was a gun under the driver's seat, if she could figure out what good that would do them. Jane would pick his cuffs, surely? She just had to buy him time.

The guard at the exit didn't challenge them, distracted by a woman chatting with him. Lisbon wondered if Hollenbeck had arranged that or just gotten lucky.

They emerged into the evening air, and Jane said, "Step down from the curb, Lisbon. Dan, you don't need Lisbon anymore. Let her go. She's blind; she's no threat to you."

"Maybe not," he replied.

Lisbon tensed. There was no way she was letting this killer take Jane without a fight. If he decided to let her go, she'd have to find help quickly.

"But," Hollenbeck continued, "while you're worrying about her, you're not cooking up one of your cons to try on me. So what's the deal, Jane? Is she convinced you're a psychic?"

"No," Lisbon and Jane chorused, with almost identical inflections of disgust.

"You two sleeping together?"

"No," they chorused again. Lisbon added, "He closes cases."

Jane said, "She helps me work the Red John case."

Lisbon bristled at this mischaracterization. "Excuse me? It's the other way around."

"Come now, Lisbon, be honest."

"Oh that's rich, coming from a professional liar!"

"Oh hey, Mr. Jane, Agent Lisbon," Tommy, the guard, called from nearby. "I thought that was you. I'm just locking up. You folks need anything?"

Lisbon had been paying attention to Hollenbeck's footsteps, trying to judge how close he was. Guessing he'd be distracted by Tommy, she kicked out, hitting his kneecap as she'd hoped. She heard him fall and shouted, "Run, Jane!"

Jane took off, and Lisbon ran with him, holding onto his arm and praying she wouldn't trip. She heard Tommy yell, "Freeze!" but couldn't tell what result the exchange of gunfire produced.

"Right," Jane directed, just before turning. She managed to stay with him, ducking down beside a car as he did. "Okay. Your car is three rows over. Do you have handcuff keys in there?"

"No. You can't pick them?"

"No time. There's a gun, though, right?"

"What good would that do?" She had a bad feeling about this.

"I'll be your eyes. You don't have to hit him, just keep him from getting close to us. Your keys are in my left pants pocket."

Lisbon reached out to where she thought his waist was, but ended up grabbing a distinctive part of his anatomy. His startled gasp made her cheeks heat, and she murmured, "Sorry!" as she found his pocket and retrieved her keys. "You okay?" She'd been moving fast and not exactly gentle.

"Right as rain," he managed, though his voice was a little higher than normal. "Let's go."

She held onto his shoulder as they half-ran in an awkward crouch, Jane occasionally giving short instructions. "Okay, it's on your right," he said at last.

Lisbon reached out for the SUV, finding the door handle and getting the key in the lock with no trouble. She was tempted to get in, but it wasn't bulletproof, and they'd be sitting ducks. Hollenbeck knew generally where they were, after all.

The gun box was under the seat, and she drew it out. "Jane, it's a combination lock. I need your eyes."

"Okay. What's the number?"

"472."

He quickly talked her through the combination, and she grabbed the gun and magazine, her blindness no barrier to loading it correctly. "Now what?"

"Don't slam the door," he whispered. "Anything in there you can throw? Nicholson's BMW is two rows over on your left. If we can set the alarm off, it'll misdirect him."

Lisbon reached for the cup holder. Yes, her travel mug was there. "Okay. Tell me if I'm aiming right."

"To your left, a little. No, not that much. Just—okay. Close enough."

Lisbon hurled the metal mug as hard as she could. No alarm went off, but the mug made a satisfying clatter a good distance away.

"Good enough," Jane said. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" She held one of his cuffed hands with one of hers, keeping the gun pointed at the ground with her other. "Back to the building?"

"No, he knows we'll try that. We have to keep moving away."

"Cho and Rigsby are on their way. They know it's him," she said.

"Good. Maybe we can work our way around to the front gate." He paused, probably to look around before crossing the next aisle. "Take your bandages off, in case you have to bluff him. But if he starts shooting, run. Don't worry about me."

Lisbon reached up with her free hand and tore the tape and gauze off, hissing a little at the sting of the adhesive parting with her skin. She blinked hopefully. Now would be a good time for a miracle, she hinted skyward.

Her hope went unfulfilled, and she reached out to take Jane's hand again, this time getting a handful of firm butt.

Jane huffed out a laugh. "Why Agent Lisbon, am I detecting a pattern here?"

"Shut up," she said, sure she was blushing furiously.

When her fingers found his, he gave them a squeeze before moving again.

A shot exploded a car window right where they'd been crouched a moment before, and Jane leapt forward, sprinting hard. Lisbon was glad there was no chance he'd outrun her. "Where'd it come from?" she demanded.

"On your left. Uh, eight o'clock." He stopped, crouching, forcing her to do the same.

Lisbon aimed high, so she'd miss anybody who happened to be in the way, and fired. Surely somebody would come investigate all this gunfire in the parking lot, she thought.

She must have given Hollenbeck something to think about, because he didn't return fire right away. Jane changed direction, pulling her a few yards before stopping between two cars. "We need to split up."

"What? No!" She tightened her grip on his hand.

"I'll distract him, lead him away from you."

"Dammit, Jane, no! He'll kill you!"

"No, he'll want to gloat first. You stay here and get ready. I'll put him between us. When I say your name, fire in the direction of my voice."

"Jane—" This plan was beyond insane. This plan was terrifying. She'd thought she was maxed out on adrenaline, but now her heart was thumping so hard he could probably hear it, and her hands were shaking.

"Trust me, Lisbon." His voice was soft and warm, and a moment later his forehead touched hers. "Just trust me, please."

She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent with an acrid overlay of sweat. She would know him anywhere, even if she never regained her sight. He wasn't just a consultant; he was part of her team, with all that entailed. She had to trust him.

"Okay," she whispered, then swallowed hard. "But you better already be ducking when you give the signal!"

"I'll be on the ground. So be sure you get him."

"I will." She'd aim for his torso and empty her clip if she had to. "Be careful."

"Don't worry. I have no intention of letting Dan achieve his revenge at the expense of mine." He paused for a second, breathing in sync with her, and then he was gone.

Lisbon brought her gun up, getting ready. She'd only have a second when Jane called her name. This could go wrong so many ways, she thought, her anxiety mounting as the seconds ticked by.

But Jane had a sense of self-preservation, she told herself. He might incite suspects to punch him, but he ran from guns. He wouldn't take a chance of her bullets hitting him.

He was smart, and much as it galled her to admit, he was usually right. This would work. It had to.

A gunshot made her jump, her fingers tightening on the grip of her gun. Then she heard Jane, sounding way too close.

"I'd put my hands up if I could. Think this through, Dan. There are security cameras all over. There's no chance you're getting away with this. Give up now."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I've gone too far to stop now. I may end up in jail, but I'll have the memory of the fear on your face to keep my spirits up."

"Just make it quick, will you?" Jane urged. "And promise you won't hurt Lisbon."

That was it. Lisbon sprang upright and fired in the direction of Jane's voice.

Someone let out a cry of pain. Who? Should she fire again?

Before she could call out, another shot was fired, then two more in rapid succession. "Jane?" she yelled.

"Boss?" Cho called. "We got him. You okay?"

Lisbon slumped against the car, relief nearly making her knees buckle. "Thank God. Jane, you okay?"

"Right as rain." His voice was strained, contradicting his words.

"Boss?" Rigsby said from nearby. "You can put the gun down, okay?"

She complied, then held it out for him to take. "Nice timing, guys."

"Where's Grace?" he asked.

"My office. He didn't hurt her, just cuffed and gagged her. Take me to Cho and then you can go get her."

Rigsby took her arm and almost jogged a few rows over, then said, "Here you go. I'll go get Van Pelt."

"Okay," Cho replied.

Lisbon heard jangling, and then Jane said, "Thanks."

"Are you hurt?" she demanded. "What about Hollenbeck?"

"He's dead," Cho said. "I couldn't take the chance he was going to shoot Jane."

"I didn't hit anybody?" The idea was strangely relieving.

Jane said, "No. Good try, though. You made him duck and miss me."

Lisbon reached out, needing to feel for herself that he wasn't hurt. He sucked in a breath as she touched his shoulder, but she didn't feel any blood.

"I hit the ground hard," he admitted. "But it's just a bruise. I'm fine, really. Just a bit peckish. Can we order dinner now?"

Lisbon choked back a laugh, afraid it would be tinged with hysteria. Cho said, "Yeah. I got this. Tell Rigsby to call the coroner."

"Sure," Jane replied.

Lisbon felt his hand on her back, urging her forward. She went willingly, wanting to be back in her familiar office as soon as possible. Now that the excitement was over, she was suddenly tired. And hungry. "I want Mexican."

"I could do that, if there's guacamole."

"Queso," she said firmly.

"Both," Jane decided. "I'm starving. And you send Rigsby home before it gets here."

"Just order double. He has a report to file, just like the rest of us." She sighed at the thought of the paperwork she would need help filling out.

"Meh. That can wait until morning. You're supposed to be resting, remember?"

This time, Lisbon couldn't hold in her laugh.

mmm

It was late by the time they all left the office, except Jane, who refused to be moved from his couch. Lisbon was too tired to argue when Van Pelt insisted on taking her home for fresh clothes and to sleep in her own bed, but once she was safely under the covers, she said, "Go home, Van Pelt. You had a rough night too. I can find my way to the bathroom, and you can come by in the morning if it will make you feel better."

"Well, if you're sure." Van Pelt sounded dubious but wax obviously tempted. "I'll bring breakfast and help you pick out clothes."

Lisbon forced a smile. "Great. Good night."

She listened to Van Pelt go downstairs, go out the door, and lock it behind her. Alone for the first time, she worried she'd have trouble falling asleep. But she must have been more tired than she thought, because she was asleep in minutes.

She woke from a deep sleep to the smell of bacon. Panic seized her before reason asserted itself: a murderer or thief wouldn't break into her house to cook bacon, especially since he'd have had to bring it with him. And Van Pelt wouldn't be caught dead frying anything. That left Jane, who was perfectly capable of breaking in to cook her a meal and who thought breakfast absolutely required a frying pan.

It smelled amazing.

"Don't get up," Jane called from downstairs. "I'm bringing you a tray."

He must really feel guilty about her condition, she thought. Speaking of which, she should take the gauze off her eyes and find out whether her vision had returned.

She carefully peeled the gauze and tape from her eyes, then took a deep breath, sending up a quick prayer. As she opened her eyes, she could see light, and her hopes rose. A few blinks later, and she could make out a figure standing in the door, the sunlight touching his hair with a gold aura, almost like a halo.

A handsome man standing in her bedroom doorway holding a tray of her favorite breakfast foods and a cup of expensive-smelling coffee was a sight to behold, for sure. She couldn't have wished for a better thing to look at in the first moment after getting her sight back.

His expression went from quizzical to a cocky grin as he figured out what she was thinking. She searched frantically for something to deflate his swelling ego. "Thanks for breakfast, Van Pelt. You shouldn't have."

The look on his face was priceless, but it lasted only a second. "You're an ungrateful woman, Lisbon. I fully expect a scold when Van Pelt learns what I consider an appropriate breakfast. In fact, maybe I should take it back downstairs and throw it away."

"Don't you dare." Lisbon held out her hands for the tray. "But you can call her and tell her not to come over, since I don't need help picking out clothes."

Jane smiled as he handed it to her and perched on the edge of the bed. "True."

Lisbon paused to smell the coffee before her first sip, then tore into the bacon before sampling the fluffy scrambled eggs. She looked at Jane after the first few bites to find him watching her with a strange look on his face. "What?"

He smiled. "It's good to have things back to normal."

"Oh, this is normal now? You breaking into my place to cook breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Being able to look at you without feeling guilty. And...I missed you looking at me."

She smiled back, hoping she wasn't blushing. "Are you not eating?"

"Already ate." He paused, cocking his head as if listening for something, and a few seconds later a whistle sounded from downstairs.

Had he brought a tea kettle? She was pretty sure she didn't own one.

"But I will have a cup of tea while you eat," Jane said, getting up.

He'd gone through the door before she swallowed and said, "Jane."

He stuck his head back in. "Yes?"

"Thanks."

He beamed at her, that damned halo amplifying the effect of the brilliant smile. "It was my pleasure, Lisbon."

Then he was gone.

She took another bite of her breakfast and thought about her day. They'd closed the case, so there would be paperwork and pizza for lunch. The audit was almost done. Her team had performed well without her direct involvement, which meant her leadership was effective. And Jane had behaved for once, which meant no complaint paperwork.

It was going to be a good day.


End file.
